


Man Buns

by helena_s_renn



Series: Two by Three [4]
Category: Def Leppard, Greta Van Fleet (Band), Music RPF
Genre: Backstage, Hair, M/M, No actual sex, PWP, Polyamorous Character, Rare Pairings, tease
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-06-23 15:45:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19704484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helena_s_renn/pseuds/helena_s_renn
Summary: Sam visits Sav at a festival, near the beginning of Def Leppard's 2019 European tour....sure enough, Sav's odd topknot-gone-rogue had become a problem.





	Man Buns

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, weird pairing. Also a 5-second appearance by Sav's wife. Don't like, don't read!! 
> 
> I have no illusions about this actually happening. No disrespect to any member of either band or their families. The opposite.
> 
> Let's see what site blows up next. Excuse my fantasizing over my two favorite bassists. Cross-posting here while RF is down. :(
> 
> Rudeness, flames, or general BS won't be tolerated. These boys are rock stars, not monks. Comments are moderated.

Sam flew in special, uninvited. 

He'd covertly watched Def Leppard's Sweden, Finland, Denmark after-festival promo vids. After two weeks off, he was restless, twitchy. The few days left of break before GVF's tour commenced its European leg weighed heavy on his mind. So he went. 

It had been too easy to get into the current festival venue and access to the rabbit warren of 'backstage'. Someone handed him an All Areas lanyard. Someone else stuck a glass of wine in his hand and steered him through to the correct cargo containers. After two awkward seconds when Sam wasn't even sure Sav remembered him and he himself had to blink and bite his thumbnail to keep from giggling, he was welcomed with open arms. 

Yeah, he'd made it in time to exchange pleasantries and be either belatedly congratulated or mocked by Joe (he couldn't tell), but the band had to get ready for their headlining slot. 

Soon, too. The sun had completely set. But sure enough, Sav's odd topknot-gone-rogue had become a problem. And now, having determined he was going to untangle it or die trying, Sam couldn't stop babbling. 

In Sav's cubicle-like dressing area, the indulgent older bassist let himself be not-exactly-trapped on his couch under Sam's wiry weight. Not even thinking, he just went for the easiest access: astride Sav's lap, their thighs aligned, his jittery fingers trying to untangle the messy snarl of bleached-blond and darker strands which kept an uneasy, lopsided list on top of Sav's head. 

"Oh good lord, Sav, what have you done? This is almost as bad as that time Jake got his hair stuck in his guitar strings. They had to cut it free! But it was only a little chunk of his bangs. We can't just take a scissors to you, it's like, all your hair...! Why didn't you do a ponytail?" At the current rate of two or three hairs at a time, they'd be there all night. "What the fuck. Did you actually tie it in a knot?"

"No, just whatever to keep it-- ow!" 

"Sorry! But it's your own fault." Sam paused for a minute to gather his own mane and twist it up into the desired result. "See that? Now that's how you make a man-bun. Nice and smooth, not this bird's nest!"

"But your hair's straight. Mine's curly... it's why I put it up, so it wouldn't explode into a massive puffball, besides it being 90-some fucking degrees."

Sam ignored the interruption. He was back to his mission. "Hold still. I'm the hair whisperer."

"Slow down, lad!" laughed Sav. His hands found their way to Sam's waist to hold him at a distance, but that didn't work. With a mind of their own, his hands slid to the young man's nearly non-existent hips, and then slyly, his tiny buttcheeks. 

Not even thinking, just feeling, Sam shoved his dick against Sav's xyphoid process. "Oof!" he snorted. "I swear that's not why I came..."

Sav had no such illusions. "Well, we didn't get to that part yet. I have the show... can you fix this or do I need to have the hairdresser fetch a scissors?" 

"No don't... just a few more seconds." The excited wiggling and hair-fiddling accelerated.

"You don't say." 

Sam's tone turned teasing. "Want me to, uh, oil things up a bit?" He deliberately looked - and onehandedly reached - down between them. His leathers rode so low that when he adjusted himself, Sav could see one glistening eye looking up at him. His mouth watered. 

"What, in my hair? You're takin' the piss. That won't help this situation, now will it? If it were up to me..." Sav deliberately held his shirt open wider, "but you know as well as I do that one just doesn't go on stage like that."

Sam was rapidly releasing the knotted strands now, which fluttered down a few at a time around Sav's weathered face. The make-up chick hadn't got to him yet. Just as well or she'd have to start all over, what with the amount of sweat that the twofold heat had raised. "Well, maybe _you_ don't," Sam teased. 

"So how 'bout you gimme a taste, and then later..." 

Tucking his pelvis in closer, Sam leaned down to press his forehead to Sav's. "What, we'll re-enact some of the poorly disguised euphemisms from your '80's classics?"

"Aye, we'll do as many as either of us have time for." Sav heard a noise, a certain flapping around the doorway. He shifted enough to look over at his wife and shrugged. She rolled her eyes, but then licked her lips and left them alone. 

Fin.


End file.
